


Curse of the Wild

by Husaria



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 16th Century Russia, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Historical Fantasy, M/M, Prompt: Fantasy AU, Victuuri Week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 19:17:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13577244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Husaria/pseuds/Husaria
Summary: Yuuri rides off into the forest beyond the steppes to find and slaughter the beast that has terrorized his village. Instead, he finds a vain silver dragon named Victor and a young boyar set on killing them both.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 5 of Victuuri Week. Prompt: Fantasy AU.

The vastness of the steppes fell away underneath the hooves of his mare, turning into the beginning of dense forest. 

“Whoa,” Yuuri slowed his horse down and drew his bow. 

It had been two weeks of riding through the grasslands of his home before finally coming to the end of the steppe. Yuuri had slept from dusk until dawn so his senses would be well-rested in case he came across a bear or accidentally crossed into a noble’s land. His path strayed far from the road to Nizhny Novgorod, so he had little chance in coming across robbers. 

Or he finally ran into the Beast. 

A thick morning mist settled throughout the trucks and branches, and his horse trotted at a wary pace. Shadows passed over their heads, but they were either tree branches swaying or heavy clouds. 

As the sun rose high in the sky, Yuuri took off his small rounded cap and wiped the sweat off forehead. While it was summer, he sweat not so much from the heat. The forest was endless; he had never spent more than a few hours in one. The thought of spending days or even up to a week in these woods made him profoundly uncomfortable. Made worse was the unshakeable feeling that he was being watched. 

At last, the forest gave way to a small field and a lengthy red, broken kremlin wall. Yuuri passed underneath the arch to find a ruined town. Moss covered the remaining wooden structures. Rusted weapons and tools lay in the same place their owners had left them. The remaining wooden structures had been marked with ash and soot. The clopping of his horse was the only sound he heard. 

The Beast would not live here, but curiosity kept him going. 

_Snap!_ His horse whinnied. 

Yuuri looked down and gulped. His horse’s hoof snapped a human femur in half. 

In the middle of the village, on a small outcropping of rock stood a fortress and a castle, towers with wide roofs almost as tall as the trees. 

Checking the sky, Yuuri could search the forest for another hour and then head into to the fortress. He did not feel safe staying in this town after sunset. 

He led his mare to a small pond next to a high wooden wall and dismounted. He took out an apple from his pack. 

“Here you go,” he said with a small smile. “You’ve been working extra hard.” He ran his fingers through her chestnut mane as she crunched on the apple. 

On the other hand, this would be the first time that they came across a permanent structure that had seemingly been abandoned. What harm would it be for them to explore the town a little before going to the fortress to bed. 

His horse drank water. 

The wooden wall appeared to be the remaining part of a much larger building. Yuuri saw no bones here, but more wood so decayed he couldn’t make out what shape they held. Underneath a slab of wood, he found molded, handwritten sheets of paper and a cross. When his search continued, he could have bartered the cross for some money but Yuuri felt it was wrong to steal such things from a church, even a ruined one. 

His horse screamed and bolted towards the fortress. 

Yuuri nocked an arrow in his bow and ran. _“Wai—”_

__

A massive, guttural roar drowned out his yell. 

The winged shadow covered half of the town before it emerged over the trees. The Beast—an unholy creature with the wings of a bat, the talons of an eagle, the horns of a devil— 

It landed on top of the fortress. The sunlight must have extended its shadows; its wings were nowhere near as large as Yuuri initially thought. It arched its head back and opened its mouth in the direction of Yuuri’s mare with orange light in the back of its throat— 

“Don’t kill her!” 

Without thinking, Yuuri fired the arrow at it. 

The arrow clanged harmlessly against the dragon’s shoulder. 

The orange light in its throat stopped but the dragon turned its head toward Yuuri. With a massive flap of its wings, the dragon leapt from the top of the fortress to— 

The ground shook and Yuuri fell backwards, his bow flying out of arm’s reach. He threw out his arms to break his fall and heard a _crack_ , pain lancing up his right arm. He crawled as quick as he could, scrabbling backwards and his back hit a wooden beam. 

Baring its teeth, the dragon approached Yuuri, crouching like a sheepdog. 

Well, this was how it would end. Like the countless other young men who had gone in search of the beast. 

“You’re an idiot,” it said. 

“I-I—You c-can _talk_?” Yuuri blurted while stars danced behind his eyes. No one told him _that_ part of the Beast. He held his right arm to his chest. 

“That’s the first thing that comes to mind?” 

“U-Um…” Being berated by a dragon… “Ow!” 

“You normally don’t see silver dragons.” 

Maybe he had died and now dreamt of the dragon speaking with him. 

“Everyone says they’re green or red or some other earthy tone, but not me,” said the dragon. 

“Y-You’re a silver dragon?” forced Yuuri. 

“Exactly. I stand out from most dragons.” 

“I-I’ve never seen a dragon before.” 

“I’m glad I’m the first one you’ve seen.” 

“Well, _I’m_ not.” His head clearing and using the wooden post as support, Yuuri stood up, holding his bad arm to his chest. “You’ve taken countless numbers of sheep and murdered half the young men in our town!” 

“I don’t recall that.” The dragon looked at Yuuri, running its sapphire blue eyes over him. His eyes widened in recognition. He pulled his lips back from his fangs and yowled. 

“A _Tatar_?” the dragon spat. “I should kill you on the spot.” 

If Yuuri could sprint fast, he could grab his bow three feet away and aim an arrow at its eye— 

“But I won’t.” Fire still burned in the dragon’s eyes and smoke rolled from his nostrils. “Or maybe not yet.” He arched his neck back. 

Spared by a massive dragon. Yuuri should count himself lucky. 

“You’re the only human I’ve seen who actually tried to attack me without running away. Better yet, you tried to save your _horse_. You’re strange for a human.” 

Yuuri moved in the direction of his bow. 

The dragon swung its massive tail and his bow flew into the woods. 

“Just because I like you, doesn’t mean I trust you,” said the dragon. 

“I-I never expected you to,” said Yuuri. His arm had already swelled. “A-Ah…” 

“Good. Wait here. I’ll grab something for your wrist.” With an enormous wave of his wings, the dragon flew to the keep. 

Yuuri whistled for his horse and she trotted in his direction. If he could get on her as quick as he could with the broken wrist and break into a sprint out of the town— 

The dragon hovered in front of Yuuri, blowing dust and dirt in his direction. “Where do you think you’re going?” He released his clenched back paws. A strip of cloth and a stick clattered to the ground. 

His mare reared and fled in the opposite direction. “I-I was just wondering if I could…perhaps head back home?” Yuuri chuckled, picking up the makeshift splint. “I initially came to see you.” It’d be best if the dragon didn’t know he came to kill him. “But since I have, I can probably go back.” 

“Absolutely not,” said the dragon, landing. “How can I be sure that you won’t tell _others_ about where I live?” 

Yuuri kneeled down, biting his lip, as he attempted to apply the split with only one hand. 

“You _live_ here—” 

“I let you free and the next thing I know, twenty men are pouring through the gates. And at any rate, you have a sprained, if not broken wrist. You would die on the road.” __

“S-So?” Yuuri stood up. His wrist still hurt, but at least he made the splint. “I’m not going to live with _you_ forever.” 

“I’m not _that_ dramatic,” said the dragon. “At least until your wrist heals.” 

His tail curled around Yuuri and pushed him in the direction of the fortress. Unlike when he crouched down, the dragon walked on two legs, his wings folded at his side. 

“Come. You and your horse can stay with me,” said the dragon. “Don’t worry. I’ll feed and clothe you.” 

“Clothe—?” 

“Yes, clothe you, the keep should have some clothing.” 

“The keep? _You_ live here?” 

“I have for quite a while. You can take your horse to the stable by the way. It should be on the other side of the keep.” 

Yuuri did as the dragon said. He stroked his mare’s head and took her reins, leading her up the path to the fortress. The dragon could easily kill him and his horse if Yuuri made the slightest motion to leave the village. But why would Yuuri leave? The dragon was right; his wrist was sprained if not broken. There was no way he would be able to hunt in his condition if he left; robbers would prey upon someone with a bad wrist. 

Yuuri and his horse walked through another archway into the castle. The inner courtyard was surprisingly clean of debris and refuse and the stones on the floor free of moss. Yuuri spotted the slanted roof of the stables and took his horse to a stall. 

“You know, for me being a dragon, your horse seems remarkably well-adjusted to this reality.” 

The dragon perched on the castle wall, the tip of his tail twitching like a cat. He looked at Yuuri and his horse with amusement. 

“I’ve had her since she was a filly,” said Yuuri. He scratched her nose. “We have trust between us, don’t we? Yes, we do.” 

“Huh. Anyway, I’m headed to sleep.” The dragon spread his wings and gently landed in the courtyard, pushing open large doors across the stable. 

“Good night,” Yuuri told his horse before running to the dragon. 

“There should still be a few beds available in the upper rooms. You can take any one you’d like. Except mine, of course. But you’ll be able to tell which one’s mine.” 

The hall that they had stepped into appeared to be a former banquet hall, but the walls were stripped bare and there was no furniture inside. The roof had caved in along ago. 

“Thank you.” Yuuri turned to the right, hoping that he wouldn’t get lost in a maze of hallways. 

“Good night then.” The dragon spread his wings. 

Yuuri turned around. “Wait! Do you have a name?” 

The dragon slowly blinked at him. 

“My name is Victor,” he said and took off. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some brief period-era prejudice in this chapter.

Feeling hot and heavy breath on his cheeks, Yuuri’s eyes shot open, and he came face-to-face with the panting snout of a wolf. 

He shrieked. 

The red-brown wolf jumped off the bed and snarled, its hackles raised. Yuuri noticed flecks of gray along its muzzle. 

Yuuri scrambled into a sitting position. How could a wolf slip inside the castle—? 

The walls of the room shook slightly as Victor yowled outside. 

“Yuuri! Are you hurt?” 

“WOLF!” 

Victor stuck his long neck through the open window. 

“A wol—?” He smiled. “Makkachin, you never said hello to me this morning!” 

Eyes brightening, the wolf’s hackles dropped, and he bounded to the window. He howled in excitement. 

Yuuri sat there. 

“I…what?” 

“Oh, I forgot to mention!” said Victor. “This is Makkachin. He sometimes visits the castle. Isn’t he cute? I think he’s cute. He knows he’s cute.” 

“He’s a wolf.” 

“And I’m a dragon. Don’t worry, he won’t eat you. I think.” He turned to Yuuri. “I’ll meet you in the great hall.” 

Victor left. 

Yuuri looked at the window where Victor had been. He wouldn’t be woken up by the wolf every morning, would he? 

He looked over at his wrist. It was still swollen and hot. The tips of his fingers tingled. 

Woken up by a wolf for at least a few more months. Yuuri threw his covers off him and left the room, the wolf on his feels. 

Yuuri stumbled through the castle halls before feeling anxiety rise up in him. His parents! If he was going to be stuck here for months, then they should know he was still alive nd uneaten! Maybe he could ask Victor to go to the village and send a letter or tell them. 

When he reached the great hall, Victor had a singed rabbit laid out on a table. 

Makkachin barked and ran over to him, wagging his tail. 

Yuuri’s stomach grumbled. He hadn’t eaten anything the day before exept for some jerky strips 

“What happened here?” 

“What happened where?” Victor said nonchalantly, blowing smoke rings. 

“Here. This town. It’s destroyed,” said Yuuri. “It looks like it’s been empty for centuries. Did you find it like this or do you know what happened?” 

“Oh I know what happened,” Victor said haughtily. “I was there.” 

“You were there?” asked Yuuri excitedly. “What happened?” Did you do it? 

“No, I did not destroy this town,” Victor growled. 

  


“I never said you—” 

“Your people did.” 

“My people?” exclaimed Yuuri. “What are you talking about—?” 

“Your people. Raiders. Tatars,” Victor spat. “Savages.” Smoke rose from his nostrils. 

“I’m a Tatar! We aren’t savages.” 

The dragon snarled. “Then I don’t know the word for when Tatars pillage an entire town.” 

Yuuri gulped his food. He wasn’t ignorant of Tatar raids into Muscovite lands centuries ago, and if Victor really lived that long, he understood why he would have that attitude. Yet, as his parents told him, the Khanate of Kazan had fallen for half a century, and they had been worse off for it. 

“Are your people still doing that? Pillaging?” said Victor. 

“Muscovy conquered us,” Yuuri said blankly. 

Victor’s eyes widened. “Oh, they had? Forgive me. As a dragon, I don’t hear much about human affairs.” There was a glint of glee in his eyes as he spoke. 

Yuuri frowned, and he ate slower. It had no doubt been strange for him to live with a talking dragon for a few months. However, he grew anxious at the thought of spending time with a dragon that hated Tatars. What was it Victor had said yesterday? He should kill him on the spot for being a Tatar. He hadn’t yet, but with his wrist the way it was, he was completely at Victor’s mercy. Yuuri hesitated telling him about his parents. 

Victor extended his neck and shook himself like a dog, the frills on his neck swaying with the movement. 

“Well, I’m off for now,” he said. “Don’t do anything to hurt your wrist again. Look after him, Makkachin.” The sun rose over the broken roof, turning his scales into polished silver. 

Victor flew away. 

Beside him, Makkachin panted. 

Yuuri smiled at the wolf and set off to explore the castle, Makkachin following him like a faithful dog. 

The size of the castle meant that Yuuri could spend several days and weeks exploring with his broken wrist. While Victor hunted (or at least, that’s what Yuuri assumed he did), Yuuri had the free run of the castle, discovering the kitchens, armory, and an endless amount of guest bedrooms. Much like the main hall and Yuuri’s room, the castle was spotless; all spots of dust had been swept away, and every item had been set in place. 

One of the hallways led to a small room full of scrolls. His reading comprehension extended only to the basic alphabet. As far as he could read, most of the scrolls contained spiritual hymns or bible verses. Some of the scrolls contained hand-written scribbles that read like a journal. The writer complained about listening to their father; they wrote about hunting; they (and here Yuuri felt sure the author was male) hated his lessons. Yuuri skimmed through them until he got to the last one. 

The scouts came back saying that Starograd had been sacked by the Tatars. Father is saying that we should ask for assistance from Nizhny Novgorod, but I thought they had also been having problems with Tatars. He’s also saying that I should take extra lessons to prepare for it. But I don’t understand why? I’m an excellent swordsman already, and I’ve already fended off a few raids on my own. I don’t think a few extra lessons would help. 

The old inhabitant of the castle? The noble of the town or his son. 

“Do you know who this is?” Yuuri asked Makkachin. 

Makkachin looked at him with bright eyes. Makkachin couldn’t talk. 

Yuuri placed the scroll back on the shelf. The journals ended there. The scrolls never mentioned a dragon so the town was sacked…and Victor moved in. 

After combing through the foodless kitchen, Yuuri found his mare sipping water from a well outside. 

“Hey,” Yuuri whispered. 

Catching scent of Makkachin, she whinnied and reared. 

“Whoa, whoa.” Yuuri grabbed her reins. “It’s okay, girl. He’s friendly.” 

She neighed. Makkachin circled around her. 

“I hope…” 

Yuuri turned. “What have you been eating?” He saw no grain or hay near the stables, only a massive pile of branches— 

Covered in apples. 

“Where did…?” 

Upon closer inspection, the branches had been ripped directly off the trees themselves with claw marks visible on them. 

“Victor…?” Yuuri said. The dragon had gone out of his way to tear apart apple trees to feed his mare. Yuuri felt oddly touched by the gesture. 

A winged shadow fell over the courtyard, and Victor landed, a rabbit in his mouth. He unceremoniously plopped it on the floor. 

“I brought dinner!” said the dragon in a pleased tone. “He wasn’t too hard to catch.” 

“Lovely,” said Yuuri. “Thank you.” 

“You’re very welcome.” 

“Oh, and thank you for the apples,” said Yuuri. He stroked her muzzle. “She appreciates it.” 

“I shall catch more tomorrow.” 

“Err…” Yuuri looked around the courtyard and scratched the back of his head. “I know that she loves apples, but could you…perhaps not give her a lot of apples every day?” Please don’t kill me. 

Victor stared at him. “Don’t horses eat apples?” 

“Yes, they do, but too much is bad for their stomach. They should mostly eat grass or hay.” 

“Oh…I didn’t know that.” Had Victor never observed horses before? “What part of the rabbit do you want?” 

Soon, a fire crackled in the middle of the courtyard. Makkachin gnawed on a leg. 

“So what did you do today?” asked Victor. 

“I discovered a room full of scrolls!” Yuuri exclaimed. “It was mostly religious writing but I found some journals.” 

Victor stopped in the middle of chewing. “You can read?” 

“A little. I learned the alphabet. But I read some scrolls written by some young man who lived in the castle…I’m guessing when the town still existed. Do you know who he was?” 

“I think I know who you’re talking about. I…observed him from time to time,” said Victor. “He was a devilishly handsome young man.” 

“You were attracted to him?” 

“Most people adored him. He dazzled everyone.” 

“Do you know anything else about him?” Yuuri did not know how much more he could hear about the dragon’s attraction to this man. “What was his name?” 

“Ah, I don’t believe I ever learned his name.” 

“What happened to him?” 

“He was killed in the Tatar raid,” said Victor. “He died defending the town.” 

“Oh that’s sad,” said Yuuri. “He sounded like a nice man.” 

Victor sighed. “He was.” 

They ate the rest of the meal in silence. 

Victor looked up at the sky in the dining hall. “It’s going to be a beautiful night.” 

“Really?” Yuuri had said goodbye to his mare and headed for his bed. 

“Yes…Do you…?” Victor looked at him. 

“Yes…?” 

Victor shook his head. “It’s nothing. Good night.” 

The next day, Yuuri woke up, and Victor had already left, leaving him with Makkachin. 

In the sunlight, Yuuri sat at one of the many desks he uncovered and wrote with a quill and ink he found in the library. 

Dear Mother and Father, 

I am alive and fine. The dragon is, surprisingly, taking good care of me. I would have returned home earlier but I broke my wrist so I am staying here with the dragon to recuperate… 

As he uncovered more of the grounds unsupervised, the swelling in his hand and gone down. He combed through the former armory, the lichyard where the castle servants had been buried, and a countless number of storage area and bedrooms. However, there was one area of the castle that Yuuri had not yet explored. 

“Do you have the letter?” 

Yuuri nodded and presented a wooden box to Victor. Not trusting Victor’s talons, Yuuri placed the letter safely inside the box. 

“Thank you.” Yuuri’s clothes and hair whipped around him as Victor took to the sky, gently taking the box from Yuuri’s hands. 

Makkachin whined as Yuuri patted his head. 

“Hush, it’ll be fine.” 

After stopping to collect his breath at the foot of the stairs, Yuuri opened the door. A part of Yuuri believed that he was intruding on the dragon’s privacy. Victor had treated him well, even if he seemed rather odd. But he knew little about his dragon host. 

“Is this his bed?” 

The bed was three massive ones shoved together, and there was an indent in the center where Victor had been sleeping. All three beds had no legs; no doubt Victor’s body crushed whatever legs there were. 

“How does he…?” The bedroom had two windows—one was small with a wooden desk in front of it and a large window that Victor could climb into if he tightly squeezed his wings to his sides. Across from the bed was a wall covered in shelves of scrolls, many worn not only from age but from use. A number of empty weapon holders hung on the walls. 

Yet aside from the bed it was the center of the room that caught his attention. Scrolls, quills, and smash ink pots had been scattered across the floor. The scrolls had what appeared to be letters at first, but quickly turned into scribbles. Yuuri gathered a few of these scrolls and found burnt paper and quills underneath them. 

“What the—? What happened here?” 

Yuuri picked up a quill and found that the end was chewed and the barbs of the feather clumped together. 

Had Victor been writing? 

Yuuri thought about Victor writing. The dragon hunched over the scrolls with a quill in his mouth, attempting to write words but unable to move his head quite like hands and turning the letters into meaningless scribble. Then, out of frustration, he burned what he had been writing to a crisp, roaring into the dark forest. 

Which brought Yuuri to another question. Could Victor read? 

Some of the letters Victor began to write were clearly Cyrillic or based off Cyrillic. Some of the scrolls and pamphlets on the shelves looked new too, like they had just been purchased (or stolen from some poor monastery). Yuuri lifted one off the shelf and saw gentle teeth marks on the edges of them. 

So he had been reading them as a dragon. He had taught himself to read or maybe kidnapped a— 

A grunt outside told Yuuri that Victor had returned. Yuuri shoved the scroll back on the shelf and rushed back down the stairs. 

“Victor—!” 

He covered his face with his arms as Victor’s wings blew great gusts of wind. In Victor’s claws was a large wheelbarrow stacked high with hay, wisps of it blowing around the courtyard. He placed the wheelbarrow gently on the ground. 

“I delivered the letter to your parents!” Victor said. “They were scared of me, but I think I got through to them. They were running away but I said that you were okay.” 

“You didn’t hurt them, did you?” Yuuri asked in panic. 

Victor scoffed. “No, I wouldn’t hurt your parents.” 

“How are they? Did they look alright?” 

“They looked fine,” said Victor. “Terrified but fine.” 

“Where did you get that?” Yuuri pointed at the wheelbarrow. 

“That? Well, I asked a farmer if I could have it and he ran away, so I took it as a yes. I didn’t steal it.” 

A farmer would have been terrified out of his mind. “…Okay.” 

“So, tell me, what did you do today?” asked Victor, laying down in the middle of the courtyard. 

“I gathered some herbs.” 

“Yes…?” 

“Explored more of the castle…” 

“Yes…?” 

“Played with Makkachin.” 

Victor stared at him. 

“I hope you understand that dragons are more perceptive than humans, and even if we weren’t, a child could realize that you’re hiding something.” 

“Oh…well…” Yuuri looked away. 

Victor snarled, his frills ruffling. “Did you damage something?” 

“Damage! Nothing is damaged!” 

“You’re acting like you did something wrong.” 

“I didn’t!...At least…I don’t think I did.” 

“You don’t think you did? Then tell me what you did.” 

“I went into your room.” 

Victor’s pupils dilated. “You…what?” 

“I went into your room,” Yuuri said. 

“So…you did.” 

“I know nothing about you!” 

Victor arched his neck back in shock. 

“Just…I know nothing about you except that you’re a dragon, but all we talk about is how each other’s days went and you’re gone almost all day. The only person I have to talk to Makkachin, and he can’t say anything.” 

Makkachin barked. 

“See?” 

Victor stayed quiet, looking at Yuuri, down at the ground, and away from him. His expression softened, and his wings spread slightly to cover all of his torso. His tail curled more around his body. It looked uncannily like a human emotion, but Yuuri could not pinpoint which one. 

“I-I see,” he said. “You wish for me to be more available during the day?” 

“Or…or something like that.” 

“Yes…” Victor folded his wings, but he avoided looking at Yuuri. “Yes…that can work.” 

“Thank you.” Yuuri gulped. “Maybe…Maybe I can help you write?” 

“Help me…?” Victor used his wings to push himself up in the dragon equivalent of a sitting position. “I can’t write.” 

“I can write what you want me to write down.” 

“A scribe!” Victor exclaimed. His eyes immediately brightened. “I’d love for you to be my scribe! Oh when should we start this? Should we start today? Maybe we can start today! Are you done with your dinner yet?” 

“Hold on! I’ve barely touched my food!” 

After Yuuri practically scarfed down the rabbit, he dug up a scroll and quill from the library and met Victor in the great hall. 

“I’ll be in my room. I should have ink there.” 

Yuuri climbed the seemingly endless number of stairs with a candle in his good hand and the paper and quill under his arm. Once again stopping to collect his breath at the last step, Yuuri opened the door to Victor’s room. 

Victor lounged on all three of his beds with one wing folded in and the other one splayed out across the room. His mouth opened, and his tongue curled in a massive yawn. 

Seeing Yuuri, Victor folded his wing and sat up. 

“Oh good, you brought a candle. Sorry about that, I can see in the dark.” He ruffled his frills and arched his neck. 

Yuuri placed the candle on the desk and took out the quill and paper. 

“What would you like me to write about?” 

Victor thought for a moment. “Hmm…I have many things. Oh! I know. How about you begin with this…? 

“Despite being here for over 100 years, the sun rising over Serkovo catches my breath every morning…” 

  



End file.
